Just Say Go
by theporchlife
Summary: Ronon and Jennifer say good night.


He slipped his hand under her shirt to trace the ridge of her spine, rough against smooth, drawing a slight gasp from her. Pressing her back against her doorway, he breathed in the light scent of her shampoo before sliding his nose along the side of her face, stopping to place a soft quick kiss against her lips.

"Then I, then, then I told Rodney that the next time he comes to the infirmary he'd better have a real ailment or else I'll give him something to complain about…" She died off then, her hands grasping for purchase on his shoulders, dreadlocks getting tangled around her arms, as he kissed her once more. He just mumbled softly in reply, although she could feel rather than see the faint smirk that appeared at her statement.

For once she didn't mind that they were making out in the hallway, that the two scientists who had just walked by were obviously giggling about them. She didn't care who saw them or how people would gossip, she just wanted to kiss Ronon and forget the rest. For once she was just enjoying the moment, just kissing her hot alien boyfriend good night in front of her door without a care in the world.

Maybe it was because she was exhausted from her long day in the infirmary - a day which seemed to drag on and on with its endless series of coughs and aches and sutures. It had been boring and slow, not that she was hoping for bullet wounds or strange alien mind viruses, and she hadn't been able to help her sigh of relief when her shift finally ended and she was free to go.

Maybe she didn't care because of the pure joy she'd felt at seeing Ronon waiting for her by her room at the end of her shift. Seeing him leaning casually against her doorframe as if he didn't have anywhere else to be had made the memory of her tedious hours in the infirmary fly out of her mind until only thoughts of him remained. He had looked concerned for an instant, taking in her tired appearance, but the concern had turned into a smile, big and bright, at her shrug and smile in answer to his unasked question: are you alright? He'd let her change, both saying little, before grabbing her hand and pulling her toward him, bouncing her small body off the front of his. He'd kissed her then, gently and quick, before tugging her out of her room in the direction of the mess hall.

Maybe it was because he hadn't let go of her hand. He'd walked through the halls of Atlantis, walked through the mess hall - dropping her hand only for a moment to gather food for them - and found them a table without letting her small hand out of his large one. She'd just smiled, shook her head at his boyish good humor and let him lead her around, ignoring the giggles and the looks they got as they passed by. The Doctor and the Runner. Most people weren't lucky enough to know him like she did, didn't know the sweetness and loyalty and love which lay beneath the rough exterior. The exterior had kept him physically alive but it was what was underneath, the goodness, that had kept him a man during those long years. So she let them think what they wanted, let them speculate, all the while knowing how lucky she was to have him for her own. So she let him hold her hand and lead her around, probably his own odd way of declaring her his own, she mused, and she was thrilled about it.

Maybe it was the way he looked at her and touched her and spoke to her that let her forget everyone else. He looked at her like he would capture all the moons in the Pegasus Galaxy for her if it would make her smile. He touched her like she was breakable but spoke to her in a way that let her know he trusted her and thought her capable of taking care of herself (not that he would ever run the risk of actually letting her do that). She wasn't just a doctor to him or a pretty woman, although he thought of her as both of those things, she was Jennifer Keller and she was his in almost all the ways that mattered.

Which led them, once more, to kissing good night in front of her door while all of Atlantis passed by. She wasn't his in all ways, they hadn't taken that last step, the step that would have her inviting him and then doing all sorts of dirty things to his body, things she'd been dreaming about since the first time she saw him in the infirmary. Dreams which made her feel guilty, because she kept putting a stop to things before they got to heated, but which also left her feeling sweaty and out of breath and completely unsatisfied. She didn't know why she kept stopping things, why she kept putting it off - she knew they loved each other, knew that it would be explosively good, knew that they had both waited long enough - but she kept saying stop when she really, really wanted to tell him go. So they kissed, and then some, and then she'd say good night and he would go, a perfect gentleman who would always growl when she ran her nails down his bare back…

"Ronon?" Jennifer panted as she pulled away from his mouth. He didn't respond, just moved his lips from her mouth to her neck and re-focused his attention there. "Ronon?"

"Just a few more minutes Jen, please." She giggled: that was kind of cute, his little boy pout and his words making him sound like a toddler who didn't want to stop playing in order to eat dinner.

"Ronon." He stopped, pout still in place, and looked at her. She rolled her eyes, untangling one arm from his shoulder and dreads before waving her hand in front of the door control panel. "Do you want to come in? I promise I'll only say go."

She barely had time to react before her feet were off the ground and the door was closed shut behind them. So maybe there was a reason not to make out in the hall: no reason to say stop.


End file.
